


Russian Roulette

by serpentunder_t



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Character Death, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 05:43:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4552890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serpentunder_t/pseuds/serpentunder_t
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He says: "close your eyes, sometimes it helps"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Russian Roulette

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd  
> Inspired by Rihanna's Russian Roulette, which has been weirdly stuck in my head for over a week.

Bass ran his worn and calloused hand through his scruff, this was supposed to have been a simple recon mission for Blanchard but it had officially gone ten kinds of south with no backup. Miles was two towns over making deals, which left just him and Charlie for this mission. Now they were tied to a post while a tiny little mouse of man walked back and forth in front of them, wielding a pig sticker knife. It made Bass’s skin crawl every time he noticed how the weasel’s eyes would skate over him and straight to Charlie, staring at her as if she was a prime steak.

The main group of men had left them to discuss their fates, and while they deliberated, Bass could feel Charlie’s breathing growing ragged. Bass managed to move his other hand an inch, reaching for hers. As his fingers closed around the fist she’d been holding, her muscles relaxed. Those great blue eyes of hers turned to look at him. He hated the fear he saw reflected in them. This was Charlie, she’d stood up to him when he’d still been President Monroe with steel behind her eyes; she’d fought her way to Texas and had led armies. The terror behind her eyes was the same as that night he’d found her in the Plains Nation, drugged and close to fate worse than death. She knew what the men here wanted to do to her, just like she’d known then. Bass ran his thumb over her hand, trying to convey something, anything.

Bass was yanked out of his thoughts when the men who had captured them came bursting through the door, smiling and laughing. The one in front motioned to the weasel as the others continued their hearty chuckling, clearing proud of themselves for whatever they’d come up with. The ropes slackened as the weasel cut them free. Bass immediately gravitated to Charlie, who had since brought herself up to full height, adopting her war stance. One glance told Bass that her eyes were full of rage and bloodlust, she wouldn’t take whatever they had planned without a hell of a fight. He smirked, these idiots had no idea what they’d gotten themselves into.

The leader of their captures sauntered up to Bass, surveying him before clapping him on the back. Bass buckled, not sure what was happening.

“We’re going to play!” The man spoke jovially, to which Bass narrowed his eyes in response. “For your freedom.”

Bass nodded. “What’s the game?”

“Russian roulette!” Someone in the back yelled. Bass didn’t flinch, only nodded once more. He’d played it before, in New Vegas. Gambling his life was nothing new, and a chance at him and Charlie walking out of here unscathed sounded like a gamble worth taking.

“Come sit! Sit!” The man motioned to a lopsided table in the corner. Bass suddenly felt Charlie’s hand around his forearm. He looked at her, questioning, and as she shook her head her eyes pleaded with him. Bass felt his hear flip, she was worried for him. Unsure what to do with the sudden rush of emotions in his gut, he broke free from her grip and made his way to the table.

He was seated, staring at the man across from him when he heard a shuffle behind him and Charlie’s intake of breathe. They were dragging her over to the table and before Bass knew it he was standing, reaching for a sword that wasn’t there. “Get your filthy hands off her” He growled.

His words were met with a laugh from the man at the table, clutching a revolver. “You didn’t think we wouldn’t let the little lady here play too, did you?”

Without thinking Bass lunged at him, “You bastard!” Bass felt the arms grab him, pulling him back into his chair. “Don’t do this.” He was close to begging, the thought of Charlie playing a dead man’s game made his skin crawl.

She sat next to him, head held high. “It’s okay Bass.” His nickname on her lips made his chest ache. The man thrust the gun into Bass’s hand, cocked and lethal. Bass held her gaze as he brought the gun to his temple, pulling the trigger.

_Click._

He handed the gun back to his capture.

_Click._

He watched as the man slide the gun across to Charlie with a mixture of lust and laughter behind his eyes. Time slowed as Charlie picked up the gun, her eyes seeking out his.

“Close your eyes Charlotte,” He grabbed her hand as she brought the gun to her head, hand slightly trembling. He didn’t want to watch this, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away as her’s closed.

As if in slow motion, he watched her pull the trigger.

**_BANG_ **

Warm blood splattered across his face as he let out a blood curdling scream.

 

He didn’t remember what happened next, only that there was other blood mixing with Charlie’s on him. Everyone in the room was dead and he was shaking, sobs threatening to bring him to his knees. He bent, scooping up Charlie’s lifeless body into his arms, feeling her blood stain him. He carried her out into the fresh air, tears falling as he walked. The strongest woman he’d ever known felt like a child in his arms as his grief overcame him like a tsunami.

He kept walking, refusing to let her go.  


End file.
